


To Fill My Heart with Music

by surviving_and_thriving



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: AH YES, M/M, Promise, Sickfic, brian is a dumb bitch, but itll get better, continuity? we hate it, dont drink kids it makes you not very nice unfortunately, freddie starts a fire, gotta love em, im american so please forgive the fact that they go to college instead of uni, its sad rn, just stick with me, my b, oops guys i added a plot and angst, send help for them both, so is roger, the 'i fell in love when you were singing in the shower trope', this is loosely based on my strange college experiences, time skips? wow we love them, yo its a college fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-10-20 21:37:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17630105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surviving_and_thriving/pseuds/surviving_and_thriving
Summary: Brian is hopelessly in love with the mysterious man who plays his music in the showersTitle and chapter titles are from Jukebox the Ghost's "Under My Skin"





	1. You Crawled Up In There, You Joined Me Within

**Author's Note:**

> take a shot every time i misspelled Brian as Brain while writing this...we'd all be dead
> 
> song used throughout is, obviously, Queen's "Love of my Life"

“ _Love of my life…”_

It was the second week of college and Brain May was already in love.  Okay, so maybe not in _love_ love.  But he definitely loved whoever it was who showered at 7:30 a.m. every morning.  Granted, he had never actually _seen_ the guy who had the best taste in music on this campus, but he was pretty sure that any college student who had both Bowie and Pink Floyd on a playlist that blared every morning religiously was his soulmate.

 

Brian desperately wanted to meet this mysterious man, but just barging into the showers at 7:30 did not seem like the best way to make friends.  After all, not everyone liked to be up to watch the sunrise like he did.

 

For now, however, Brian was content to listen to the man’s music as he brushed his teeth each morning.

* * *

_“You’ve hurt me…”_

It was the fifth week of college and Brian has decided that he hated the mysterious man in the bathroom.  Okay, so maybe not really. But he hated him right now, seeing as Brian had been up all night working on a physics project and had gotten approximately 48 minutes of sleep.  He didn’t have class until 10:00 a.m. and, as of 6:42 a.m. this morning, had been planning on sleeping until the absolute last minute. Mr. Shower Man, apparently, had different plans.

 

Groaning, Brian tucked his pillow over his ears and tried to fall back asleep.  Even when exhausted, he couldn’t hate the guy. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t going back to sleep as long as The Doors was playing.

* * *

  _“You've broken my heart and now you leave me”_

It was the ninth week of college and Brian was met with silence when he walked in the bathroom at 7:30 a.m..  Disappointed, Brian went about his morning routine in quiet, humming a Beatles song to fill the void.

 

Brian couldn’t help but wonder where the music man was that morning.  After all, this was the first day of class that the bathroom had been silent.  Obviously, no one in their right mind got up before 2:00 p.m. on the weekends. But it was strange to not hear classic rock playing to start his day.  

 

Brian wondered if the man was okay.  Maybe he just went home, he reasoned with himself.  There really is no need to get all bent out of shape over someone you’ve never met, he thought.

 

Finishing his morning routine around 8:00 a.m., he walked out of the bathroom, only to nearly collide with someone running full speed, clad only in pyjamas, down the hallway.

 

“Sorry, I’m so fucking late, my bad!” was tossed over the man’s shoulder as he continued to sprint down the dorm hallway.

 

Brian laughed and called out a cheery, “Godspeed!” to the blond, before walking back to his dorm room to get ready for his class.

* * *

_“Love of my life, can't you see?”_

It was the eleventh week of college and Brian was woken up at 3:00 a.m. to a smoke-filled room and the loud beeping of the fire alarm.  The R.A. was pounding on his door, yelling at him to get outside.

 

Once outside, he immediately started asking questions.  He learned that the fire had been started in one of the dorm rooms when someone tried to make Easy Mac and forgot to take the little foil thing off.  Brian was thoroughly baffled. Who, at age 18, didn't know how to make mac-n-cheese? And how could someone manage to not only forget to take the foil off, but forgot to put water in at all?

 

While contemplating the stupidity of all college freshmen, Brian overheard the hushed conversation between two of the boys he assumed lived on his hall.

 

“Yo, what the _fuck_?” A blond, who Brian recognized as the boy who had been running down the hall asked the other boy.

 

“Honestly, love, you’re just lucky I realized the bloody thing was on fire.  I had planned on grabbing some water while it cooked.” _Ah, thought Brian, this was the guy who couldn't make macaroni._

 

“Well, thank you for filling our hallway with smoke.  Thank you very much for that. Nevermind that I have a Biology lecture tomorrow, not _this_ , morning.  And it’s the last one before our next test.  So thank you very much for this lovely night excursion.”

 

“You’re ever so welcome, dear”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Brian wanted to hear more of this argument, both boys sounded like they could trade insults the rest of the night, but the R.A. called them back into the dorm, declaring the hall, thankfully, fire free.

 

The two boys continued squabbling all the way back, eventually entering a room three doors down from Brian.

 

Once again, he thanked his lucky stars he had a single room.  He may have murdered a roommate if they set the microwave on fire at 3:00 a.m.

* * *

  _“Bring it back, bring it back”_

It was the thirteenth week of college and once again Brian was met with a silent bathroom when he entered at exactly 7:30 in the morning. Since that morning at the beginning of the semester, Brian had always been greeted with rock music when he walked into the bathroom.

 

But today, it was strangely, and unsettlingly, quiet.  

Until it wasn’t.  There was a loud crash from one of the bathroom stalls, and, startled, Brian spun around to see what had happened.  He obviously couldn't see much, as the doors were closed, but he could see one very bright pink sock sticking out from under the stall door.

 

Hesitantly, Brian walked over and knocked on the door.

 

“You alright in there, man?”

 

He was met with a retching noise and a small groan.

 

“Woah, mate, let me in.  You sound like you could use some help.”

 

Slowly, the door opened and Brian was faced with the sight of a crumpled blond, who he recognized from the ‘Easy Mac Incident,’ as the dorm had come to call that fateful night.

 

Shaking his head, Brian moved down to help support the stranger.

 

“How long have you been in here?”

 

The man sighed and pushed himself up to his knees, “like midnight.  I think the caf gave me food poisoning.”

 

“Midnight?” Brian was shocked, “It’s, like, 7:30.  I’m no medical expert, but you should probably be in bed.”

 

The man on the floor laughed.

 

“I’m a pre-med student and I can tell you I should definitely be in bed.  Only problem is I can't seem to get up on my own.”

 

“Can I bring you back to your room?  You’ve got a roommate, right?” Brian asked, offering his hand to help the other man up.

 

“Yes, please”

 

Steeling himself for movement, the blond grabbed the offered hand and pulled himself upright.  Almost immediately he began to sway.

 

“Whoa there,” Brian said, “I got you.”

 

The duo made their way out of the bathroom and down the hall, Brian firmly supporting the other man.

 

The stranger directed Brian to a door decorated with various musical instruments and the names ‘Freddie’ and ‘Roger’ in bold font.  Brian’s own door was frightfully plain, just his name and a few pictures of his guitar and images stolen from NASA’s instagram account.

 

“This is me,” the other man said, “Thanks so much for helping me.”

 

“Anytime,” Brian said, waving off the thanks.

 

As the blond opened the door to fall inside, he turned once more, “Can I at least get the name of my savior?”

 

“Brian.  Brian May.”

 

“Roger Taylor”

 

“Take better care of yourself, Roger”

 

Roger smiled as he closed the door, “No promises," He winked, "You might just have to save me again.”

* * *

  _“Don't take it away from me…”_

It was the sixteenth week of college and Brian was well and truly screwed.  No, he was fully fucked. He had three projects due in the next three days and he hadn’t started on a single one of them.  He didn’t even have a good excuse. He had been messing around on his guitar and then all of a sudden, the weekend was gone, and so was all of Brian’s time to work on these projects.

 

Honestly, he wanted to cry.  He wanted, and needed to do good in these classes, but everything paled when his guitar grabbed his attention.  His only saving grace was that he didn’t have class on Mondays, so he could spend all day working on these stupid projects.  Shame, there was a concert tonight at one of the college bars he had been hoping to catch. He’d heard the drummer was quite good.

 

Brian was lying in bed staring at the ceiling, contemplating how convincingly he could fake his death when his 7:30 alarm went off. Sighing, he pushed himself off his bed and dragged himself to the bathroom.  

 

He paused outside the bathroom.  Instead of classic rock, the man in the shower was singing something Brian didn’t recognize.  Brian didn’t claim to know every song ever written, but he was pretty sure that this was an original.  And it was quite good. Brian stood outside the bathroom for as long as he could justify before he pushed open the door.

 

The singing stopped as soon as the door opened, and all Brian wanted to do was to tell the man to continue.  He didn’t want the music taken away.

 

Instead, Brian brushed his teeth and washed his face in silence as the shower ran as background noise.

* * *

  _“Because you don't know what it means to me”_

It was the eighteenth week of college and finals were in full swing.  This, of course, meant that every student was dying.

 

Brian had just left the library for the first time in three days and was in dire need of a shower.  Before he could shower, however, he needed to sleep. But he really wanted to get clean. Three days of finals hung on him like a heavy cape and he smelled. But also, sleep sounded so good.

 

Brian shook his head.  He was exhausted, yes,but if he didn’t shower now, he probably wouldn’t be able to find the energy later.  

 

Brian slipped his phone in a Ziploc bag and turned his music on loud.  As he showered he began to relax from the stress of finals. Despite having always been a nighttime shower person, showering in the morning did feel nice.  

 

His serene shower was broken by the mysterious shower man getting in the second shower at 7:25, on schedule as ever.

 

“Love your music, man!” Came the enthusiastic call from the other shower.  Brian laughed to himself, of course the other man loved his music. They practically had the same playlist.

 

The two boys showered in relative silence, both of them singing along to whatever song was on quietly.  

 

Feeling clean, and a little awkward, Brian exited his shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, as the other man exited the other shower.

 

“Brian, hey!”

 

Brian turned around and came face to face with one, Roger Taylor.


	2. I Can Feel Your Heart Beating Under My Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall i am beyond sorry for how long this took me to get up. college is kicking my ass (pro-tip: don't triple major), but here ya go :) 
> 
> i love you all so much and i cherish every single comment/kudos given. yall are too beautiful and precious for me
> 
> also, i based the requirements for both majors off my own college's plans, so it's obviously different for each school. also also, Queens College is a real college, but i do not go there, nor do I have any idea what it is like to go there. I attend a small liberal arts school in the southern US, and that is what I am basing this school on, the name is just for fun

_“Love of my life…”_

It was the second week of knowing who the man in the shower is and Brian has never been more in love.  Okay, so maybe not _love_ love, but when he watches the smoke curl up from Roger’s lips as he breathes out the latest hit from their shared blunt, Brian can’t think of anything more beautiful.  

 

His breath catches again when Roger pulls an old, dented acoustic guitar from under his bed.  Roger messes around for a few minutes as Brian takes the blunt and catches up to Roger in his intoxicated state.

 

Suddenly, Roger thrusts the guitar at Brian with a groan.

 

“I can never get the bloody thing to, like, make the sounds I want.  You have a go.”

 

And so, an hour later, Brian finds himself laughing along to a bizarre song Roger seems to have come up with on the spot (something about fucking a car, maybe?), accompanying him on the guitar.  When Freddie walks in and hits an incredible high note that is perfectly timed, they all lose it, laughing harder than should be possible.

 

He never thought college could be this fun.

* * *

_“Don't leave me”_

It was the second week of knowing who the man in the shower and when Roger barges into Brian’s dorm room at approximately ass o-clock, he isn’t even surprised.  Being friends with the blond meant that unexpected visits were an expected thing. And it wasn’t like Brian was up doing homework all night, anyway.

 

“Brian, why the fuck are you still awake?”

 

“Why are _you_ still awake?” he retorted, rather cleverly.  Hey, it was well past midnight, he didn’t have to be terribly eloquent.

 

“God,” Roger started, “I fucking hate pre-med.  I’ve got to drop it before I lose my mind.”

 

“Why don’t you go ahead and do that then,” Brian stated, finishing off a last chemistry equation with a sigh.  He hated the class and loathed that it was required for the physics major.

 

“My parents won’t pay for me to stay of I don’t ‘do something that will make you money and make us proud.’”

 

At that, Brian dropped his pencil.  Roger couldn’t leave. But if he was really that unhappy, would it be selfish to ask him to stay, just for him.  Yeah, Brian decided, it probably was.

 

Before he could suggest anything, Roger pushed himself off the bed and dropped dramatically on the ground.

 

“It’s not that I hate the science, I love it actually, one of my favorite parts of college, truly.  It’s the damn math. I suck at calculus. I got a fucking four on the AP calc test, but this fucking school wouldn’t take my credit,” he got up from the floor with a sigh, continuing, “Anyway, sorry about the intrusion.  I’ll just be on my way.”

 

And just like that, Roger was gone.  The man was a whirlwind.

 

Closing his textbooks, he began to get ready for bed.  Grabbing his phone to set an alarm, he saw that he had gotten a text from Freddie.

 

_dont worry about rog. He claim hes dropping out every other day._

_he thought he worrid you and i wanted to make sure you knew hed still be here tomorrow_

* _worried_

_night briiiii :))))))))))))))_

 

Brian shook his head, smiling to himself.  He shot Freddie a short text back.

 

_Night, Freddie._

_:)_

* * *

  _“You've stolen my love, you now desert me”_

It was the ninth week of knowing who the man in the shower is an Brian has never felt so luck in his entire life.  I mean really, out of all the students at Queens College, he was friends with the one person who actually understood, and more importantly, could explain, General Chemistry in terms that Brian could understand.

 

When he met Roger in the library that afternoon, he was second-guessing his luck.  Brian knew Roger was smart, but watching him fly through chemistry problems like they were nothing was incredible.  And kind of hot, if he was being honest with himself. Despite the _slight_ distraction that was Roger Taylor, both boys managed to finish the problem set in under two hours, and Brian actually understood what he had just done.

 

When he tried to offer to pay for the tutoring, Roger laughed.

 

“Nah, man.  Don’t try to pay me.  That helped me as much as it helped you.”

 

“Oh, I am positive that was a lie.  Let me do something to thank you.”

 

Roger’s eyes lit up.  

 

“Can you help me with calculus?  I just really don’t understand volumes of revolutions and I have a test next week?”

 

“Of course!  Let me just see your book.”

 

Roger moved closer to Brian, and his breath caught in his throat again.

* * *

_“Love of my life, can't you see?”_

It was the eleventh week of knowing who the man in the shower is and midterms were well underway.  Brian and Roger had made a regular practice of meeting in the library to study and help one another, and both boys could see the stress of exams weighing down on the other.

 

Roger wasn’t exactly sure when the last time Brian had eaten a meal was, but it was definitely not in the last 48 hours.  Brian wasn’t exactly sure when Roger had slept last and he was pretty sure it was nearing two straight days of no sleep.

 

But they only had one more final, then they could sleep and eat as much as humanly possible, before having to wake up for class the next week.

 

When Roger looks up from his book, he looks like he is about to cry.

 

“I can’t read worth shit, Bri.  I’m going blind. This is it. My last will and testicle.  Wait, testament. Sorry, I’ve been diagramming anatomically correct reproductive organs for the last two hours.”

 

Trying for humor, Brian responds.

 

“You always know just how to turn a lady on.  Anatomically correct diagramming of sexual organs.”

 

Roger threw his book at Brian.

 

Huffing, the smaller man reached into his bag and grabbed a small blue case.  Slipping a pair of glasses on, he looks up at Brian.

 

“Wow, Bri, never noticed how stunningly attractive you are,” Roger gushes, fluttering his eyelashes.

 

This time, Brian throws the book.

* * *

  _"_ _Bring it back, bring it back”_

It was the thirteenth week of knowing who the man in the shower is and when Brian walks in to brush his teeth that night, he hears muffled crying.

 

He walks over to the stall door and knocks, worried about the person inside.  When he crouches down to check under the door, he spots a very familiar pair of pink high-tops.  

 

“Roger?” Brian’s voice is, he will admit, slightly panicked.  

 

“Brian?” the disembodied voice asks, “Can you come in?

 

“Yeah, bud, just let me in.”

 

The door swings open and Roger launches himself at Brian.  

 

Brian simply holds him for a few minutes, breathing slowly, hoping Roger will mimic his breathing patterns and calm down somewhat.  

 

“What happened, Rog?”

 

In response, Roger thrusts an envelope into Brian’s face.  

 

“My fucking midterm results.  I’m too freaked out to open them.  What if I failed? What if I get kicked out of the Biology major? What if I - “

 

“Calm down, Roger.  You haven’t even opened them yet, right?  And you studied hard, there’s no way you could have failed.”

 

“If I did fail, though, I lose my scholarship and have to move back home and I can’t do that, Brian, I just can’t.”

 

“You won’t have to.”

 

“You can’t promise that, Brian.  Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

 

“I wouldn’t let it happen, Rog.  I couldn’t let you leave.”

 

They sit in the bathroom for another hour at least, just breathing together and holding one another.  In the end, they don’t open Roger’s results. That’s something for a later day.

* * *

_“Don't take it away from me”_

It was the sixteenth week of knowing who the man in the shower is and Brian looks at a sleeping Roger with a fondness he couldn’t imagine feeling a semester ago.  

 

Sleeping Roger is much different from awake Roger.  Sleeping Roger is much quieter and calmer. It feels almost too intimate to be around him.  The persona Roger puts on everyday falls off and a small, but passionate, boy is left.

 

However, like awake Roger, sleeping Roger still talks.  Brian had learned from Freddie one night that Roger would talk in his sleep.  He’d respond to questions, never with a coherent answer, and carry on one-sided conversations.  It was endlessly amusing. Brian’s personal favorite was the time Roger had fallen asleep at the library and had shouted “oh fuck!” loud enough to have a noise complaint filed against him.

 

This particular night, however, Roger seemed to simply be talking to himself.  Roger had fallen asleep while studying in Brian’s room, and Brian didn't have the heart to wake him.  

 

When Roger mumbles an “love you, Bri,” Brian can’t stop himself from smiling and giving an “love you, too, Rog,” in return.

 

And if Roger smiles in his sleep, it’s no one’s business.

* * *

_“Because you don't know what it means to me”_

It was the eighteenth week of knowing who the man in the shower is and the end-of-year celebration was in full swing.  Brian was more than a little tipsy, but Roger had blown past tipsy, drunk, and wasted, and was well on his way to blackout.  

 

It seemed like the entire student body population had decided to go out after the final exam, flooding the only bar downtown that didn’t card.  The bar was probably making an insane profit, so the law-breaking must be doing some good, Brian thought.

 

Roger stumbled up to him, a glass of something suspiciously blue colored in his hand.

 

“Brian, man, like, I have no idea what’s going on right now.  But I have something very important. Something vastly important to tell you.”  

 

Brian grabbed Roger’s shoulders to stop him from falling, as he was leaning dangerously to the right.  

 

“Alright, Rog, what is so terribly important.”

 

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Oh no, you’re much too sober for me to say this.  Here,” he thrust the blue liquid in his hands, “drink up.”

 

Brain, who was probably more drunk than he thought, too the drink without hesitation and downed it.

 

“Okay,” Roger yelled, “I’m gonna go dance.”

 

“Wait,” Brian called out, but Roger had already disappeared into the crowd.

 

Brian shrugged and settled back on his seat at the bar.  His favorite party activity was people watching, something he did that night with gusto.  Until he saw a familiar blond far too close with another guy, laughing and talking and leaning into him.

 

Brian saw red and stormed out of the bar.  He took a second to cool off by the street, but every single time he tried to go back in, he was overcome with rage.

 

Huh.  He was probably _really_ drunk if he was getting this emotional over Roger. Just thinking about the blond with the other man made Brian feel like curling into a ball and crying.  Or just vanishing for all eternity. Or fighting. He didn’t really know how he felt. He just knew that it made him _feel_ things when he saw Roger that close with other people, with other guys.  

 

Brian shook his head, trying to get some form of clarity.  Fuck him, his brain decided. Fuck Roger.

 

Brain pulled out his phone and called an Uber.  It was only when he was halfway back to campus, he remembered he had gone to the bar with Roger in the first place. He’d probably find a ride home with someone else anyway, then fuck them for good measure.  Whatever Roger had to tell him was clearly not as important as the guy in the platform boots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what ya think!!! and if you want to yell at me on tumblr, my writing blog is https://www.tumblr.com/blog/i-would-die-for-the-oxford-comma - i post emo poems and passages from things i'll never write :))))


	3. And the Beating of Your Heart is Making Me Bleed from Within

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT it took me so long to write this. i am so sorry, yall dont deserve my nonsense. 
> 
> yo yo yo sorry this has taken me seventeen forevers to upload. school is really killing me currently and ive been working on my research paper that im publishing instead anyway, im back on my bullshit, so heres another chapter 
> 
> i truly love every single person who has read/left kudos/commented on this. yall are the absolute best ever and i want yall to know that :)

_“You will remember”_

It was the second week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  Actually, he wasn’t. He was miserable. And lonely.

 

The new semester had started and Brian had _really_ hoped that fate would smile on his poor excuse of a life and let his room be far, far away from Roger’s.  But, as per usual, Brian’s luck was shit. Not only was Roger in the same building as Brian, they were on the same floor.  And not only were they on the same floor, they were fucking neighbors.

 

All that meant was that Brian could hear Roger’s music, but he knew that it was no longer their thing to share.  That bond had been royally fucked the last night of last year. And Brian couldn’t even figure out why. He had left the bar, probably a little too soon, but Roger had staunchly avoided him for the last week of school while everyone had been moving out.  

 

That avoidance had apparently continued into their sophomore year of school.  Despite having not talked all summer, Brian still desperately wanted to be friends with the other man, and had gone out of his way to try and make contact with Roger when he was moving into his room.  Brian had tried to help Roger get some of the stuff to his room, but the blond had flinched away when Brian went to grab one end of his mattress and Freddie had dismissed him with a grin and a wave of his hand as he grabbed the other end.  So Brian had left them alone, as he was obviously not wanted.

 

And to make matters worse, Roger was rooming with Freddie and Platform Boots Man from the bar.  Platform Boots man was just _that_ interesting.  And Brian was not, he thought with a little (a lot) of jealousy.  

 

Brian was, once again, in a single, but he wasn’t nearly as happy about it as he was the previous year.

 

Brian had never felt more alone.

* * *

_“When this is blown over”_

It was the fifth week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  It was a little strange, being greeted with silence every time he stepped into the bathroom to brush his teeth and do his hair every morning.  Brian had gotten used to Roger’s music blaring, distracting him from the early hour. But, Brian muses, that seems to have vanished with his and Roger’s friendship.

 

Even though he and Roger lived on the same hall, there had been, in Brian’s opinion, a distinct lack of Roger for the few weeks they had been back in school.  It wasn’t like Brian missed the constant laughs and fun that had come with being friends with Roger and Freddie (he did).

 

So, when Brian walked into the caf for lunch on a gloomy Wednesday and he saw Roger sitting alone with a bowl of cereal, he was shocked.

 

Not because of Roger eating cereal at one p.m., it was college, everyone has their bad days, but because the other man looked like a totally different person.  He was hunched in on himself, and Brian didn’t even want to think about what could have made Roger, the person with the biggest and loudest personality Brian knew, try to become so small.

 

He was also alone, which was weird in itself.  Roger was always  _always_ surrounded by other people.  Unlike Brian, who detested large crowds, Roger fed off them.  They gave him life.

 

To see two of what Brian considered Roger’s defining characteristics stripped away startled and scared him.

 

Brian wanted to go up to the blond and help somehow, but he didn’t think he had that power anymore.

 

So Brian left Roger sitting alone.

* * *

_"Everything's all by the way"_

It was the ninth week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence. Brian had avoided going out for much of the beginning of the semester, mostly because school was kicking his ass to the moon and back, but midterms had just finished and he was going to celebrate, damn it.  It totally didn’t matter that he had probably failed everything, it was over!

 

Half an hour into the party and Brian was thinking that he had probably gone too hard too fast.  It probably hadn’t been the best idea to try to outdrink his lab partner right after he did shots with half his physics II class.  But he was having a good time and the world was moving so fast but his mind was going so slow and it was just _fun_ .  He was having _fun_.

 

When Brian sees a familiar flash of blond hair across the room, he is too drunk to think properly and decides that right now, right at this moment, is the very best time to talk about the whole situation.  

 

Plus, his brain supplied helpfully (good to know his brain still works the amount of alcohol he had consumed), this is the same place Roger was going to tell him something last year.  Maybe, being here will make the blond remember. Because Brian really wants to know.

 

But as he tried to get up from where he was sitting, his body decided to tilt to the left and he felt himself falling.  A pair of hands catch him and pull him upright.

 

It takes a great amount of strength for Brian to make himself look up at his savior (and wow, why are his eyes so heavy now?), but when he finally does, Platform Boots man is looking down at him with concern.

 

Brian spends an unreasonable amount of time processing this fact and when he finally does, he realizes that the man is asking him a question.  Brian decides just to nod and hope it makes sense as an answer.

 

He sees Platform Boots man’s eyes narrow in concern and he waves Brian’s lab partner over, presumably to take him home.

 

He never does get to talk to Roger and when he wakes up the next day, he doesn’t remember the party at all.

* * *

_“When I grow older”_

It was the eleventh week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  Brian had spent a good few days recovering from the post-midterm party and trying to piece together his, admittedly sparse, memories of the night.  He literally could not remember anything past finishing his last midterm and taking a celebratory shot with his lab partner after they walked out of the classroom.

 

So he was surprised when Roger and Platform Boots man walked into his physics II class to talk about graduate programs and he had the startling realization that both of them had been at the party.  

 

Platform Boots man smiled at him and Brian prayed to every deity that he could think of that he had said nothing too terribly embarrassing at the party.  He had a hazy memory of the man helping him up after he fell, which is not the worst first interaction to have with someone, but was definitely not the best.

 

After Roger and Platform Boots man, whose name, Brian learns, is John Deacon, give their talks on why the physics majors should consider graduate programs, Roger talking about pre-med and John about pre-engineering, they stay after the class ends to answer any questions.

 

Brian wonders why Roger is still in the pre-med program that he hated so much, but as he watches Roger and John joke around, laughing and cracking jokes when no one is looking, he reminds himself that Roger has probably replaced him with someone better and smarter.  

 

Someone like John.

* * *

_“I will be there at your side…”_

It was the thirteenth week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  He was walking back to his dorm for a much needed nap after a particularly rough three hour lecture in his Mathematical Tools for Physics.  It was times like this, when he was leaving one insane lecture and preparing for another three hour lab this afternoon, where he doubted quitting everything and becoming a musician like he had always wanted to.  He always mentally slaps himself after these thoughts, because he loves physics, he truly does. It’s just, sometimes, when he looks at his guitar that he never plays as much as he wants, Brian can’t help but think of bigger things.

 

He nearly crashes into a tree, lost in his thoughts, and when he safely makes his way around the tree, he sees three familiar bodies walking in front of him.

 

Roger is complaining (at least that hasn’t changed, Brain thinks) about some test that he failed.  Freddie cut him off with a question.

 

“Whatever happened to that lovely man on our hall last year, Brian?  He was stellar at math and really helped you. He lives a few doors down from us dear, why don’t you ask him to tutor you again?”

 

Roger shrinks into himself again and shrugs.

 

“I don’t think he’d be particularly into it, Fred,” he pauses for a second before unfolding and joking, “Plus, he doesn’t deserve me!”

 

John smacks the back of Roger’s head and all three laugh with a familiarity that makes Brian’s heart ache.

* * *

_“...to remind you”_

It was the sixteenth week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  Brian would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t miss having someone to talk to every morning in the bathroom.  Even when Brian hadn’t known Roger was the guy in the bathroom playing music, he still had company.

 

It was a Sunday and Brian had decided that his hair needed a thorough cleanse.  He longed for the simpler days when he would straighten his hair, but he recognized that he looked awful with straight short hair.  He had fully resigned himself to a life of complicated hair routines.

 

After a long and lovely shower, Brian emerged to a bathroom full of steam and Freddie Mercury.  

 

When Freddie spotted him, he spun around with an accusing look on his face.

 

“What on earth is the problem between you and Roger, love?  The poor man won’t even speak your name and every time he walks into the room, he stares at that bloody guitar with _the_ most mournful look I have ever seen on a man.  And I need it to stop before I kill him.”

 

Brian physically steps back at the barrage of Freddie’s words, but once he processes what the other man has said, the confusion sets in.

 

“I thought he hated me?”

 

“Darling, why would he hate you?  Based on his reaction to you not talking, I would place money on him, in fact, being deeply in love with you.”

 

“I don’t know!” Brain said, exasperated, “He was going to tell me something at the bar after finals then he left me for some other guy.  John, I think.”

 

At that, Freddie begins to laugh.

 

“Bri, dear, I love you, but you are so incredibly stupid.  John is our _friend_.  He was watching Roger that night because he warned us that he was going to ball out at the party and too many strange things have happened when Roger drinks that much to not assign him a babysitter.”

 

“So he wasn’t replacing me with John?”

 

“I’m going to murder both of you if this whole thing was a massive misunderstanding and I’ve put up with an emotionally distant Roger for an entire semester.  Then I will bring you back to life just to kill you again.”

 

Freddie laughs again as he walks out of the bathroom.

 

“Talk to him, Brian.”

* * *

_“How I still love you”_

It was the eighteenth week with no morning music in the bathroom and Brian was glad for the silence.  Until, slowly and quietly, Brian began to hear someone with music playing on their phone approaching the bathroom.

 

Based on the song selection, he was pretty sure who would be opening the door.

 

After his talk with Freddie, Brian had been mentally preparing himself to talk to Roger, but every time he attempted to knock on his door, he was overwhelmed with terror and had to retreat to the safety of his room.

 

Apparently, Roger wasn’t the same coward Brian was, because he was opening the door and looking sheepishly inside.

 

“Brian?”

 

“In here, Roger,” Brian managed to say without crying.  Somehow.

 

He had missed the sound of Roger’s voice.

 

When Roger fully stepped into the bathroom, the dim hallway lights illuminating his blond hair and a soft song playing in the background, Brian felt like he had stepped into the ending of a famous love movie.

 

They both spoke at the same time.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Looking at one another and laughing, Roger stepped forward and enveloped Brian in a hug.

It wasn’t the flashy romantic Hollywood scene anyone would pay money to see on the big screen, but Brian was happy and he hoped Roger was as well.  

 

Brian didn’t feel so alone anymore.


	4. Each Breath You Take Is a Brand New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again pals 
> 
> sorry again for taking so long to update, but here i am! so so sorry this is so late, i just wanted to get something out to yall before the break got insane :)
> 
> also, special shout-out to ThusWithAKissIDie because i read your comment when i was having a real bad day and straight up sobbed in my bio lab
> 
> i love you all so much and im so beyond thankful for everything yall say (not to mention that yall even bother reading this mess)
> 
> so thank you all!!

_“Oh, hurry back, hurry back”_

It was the second week after the return of music to the bathroom and Brian could say with total confidence that his life had improved exponentially with the addition of Roger back into his life.  Okay, so life wasn’t _perfect_ (he cried a little too hard when NASA shut down the Mars Rover), but he was happier with the other man around.  An added benefit came in the form of two men, one Freddie Mercury and one John Deacon. John, who the other boys had taken to calling Deaky, was, Brian loathed to admit, an amazing person and even better bass player.  

 

Brian still felt a twinge of jealousy whenever he saw John and Roger laughing together, as it brought back far too many painful memories of the “Semester That Shall Not Be Spoken Of,” as Freddie had dubbed that unfortunate time.

 

That jealousy, however, was quickly curbed when John met his new girlfriend and shyly introduced her to the rest of the boys.  The love Brian could see in both John and Veronica’s eyes shut down any thought of John trying to “steal” away Roger (Roger was _not_ his property, Brian had to remind himself, they weren’t even dating).

 

With the reconciliation of Brian and Roger, the boys quickly realized that they could technically get away with calling themselves a band.  

 

And so the most dysfunctional band ever formed was created.  Initially, there was quite a bit of disagreement with the styles each member wanted to play, with Freddie preferring emotional ballads, Roger championing rock, Brian being partial to songs with a deep meaning, and John’s odd love of disco.

 

Eventually, _most_ of the issues were worked out, and all four boys settled on a sound that was more a mix of everyone’s style than one specific style or genre.

 

With the formation of the band came practice.  Lots and lots of practice. Brian knew, on a deep level, that they were all talented musicians in their own right, but, shit, they sounded bad when they played together.  

 

Roger always wanted to speed the tempo up, while Brian wanted to keep it slower.  Freddie and John often just watched and cast bets on who would win. Bastards.

 

“It’s rock and roll, Brian.  You can’t just strum at a leisurely pace and expect people to want to dance.  You’re playing for the old folks home and I’m playing for people who are actually our own age,” Roger would say and Brian would have to fight the urge to strangle him right then and there.

 

The other thing about playing in a band, especially one with Roger Taylor at the drums, was how distractingly attractive he was.  It was simply not fair that one person could look good when hitting something and Brian was, justifiably, having a hard time focusing on the music when someone who looked like _that_ was just sitting near him.

 

The rehearsal today was going about as well as anyone could expect.  Freddie had almost impaled Brian with a drumstick he was using to conduct he while he played a riff, John and Roger were working on some rhythm section stuff that, for some reason, involved John playing a chord and Roger screaming back in the same pitch  (try as he may, Brian has accepted that he will never understand the two youngest boys).

 

Freddie abruptly turned away from the almost-murder her had just committed and loudly announced that it was time to try to put a full original song together.  The band had come up with a few songs, nothing concrete, and had never attempted to play them all the way through. Fear, Brian guesses, that the song won’t be as good as anyone wants it.

 

But when Freddie puts his mind to something, that thing will happen.  And so the four men assembled to play one of their own songs.

 

Roger counted them off and they launched into a rough rendition of their song.

 

Honestly, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Brian had expected it to be.  Sure, it was rough, but it was a song and it wasn’t bad.

 

When they finished, there was a pause then a scraping sound as Roger lunged from behind his drum kit and wrapped his arms, fist around Brian, then inviting Freddie and John to join.

 

They could do this.

* * *

_“Don't take it away from me”_

It was the eleventh week after the return of music to the bathroom and Brian could say with total confidence that he was feeling more than a bit unsure about all of his life choices.  Midterms had crept up on him, Roger, John, and Freddie with frightening speed and they were all suffering. Why the fuck did he think that putting off his studying for the sake of working on a new guitar bit for a song was okay?  Brian, apparently, but he was deeply regretting the decision now, as he sat in the library, staying at his textbook, but not retaining anything.

 

Currently, Brian was in the library, debating whether or not it would be appropriate to launch himself out the window, thinking that if the fall was not enough kill him, but hurt him badly, he may get out of his exams.  This probably wasn’t the _best_ way to deal with stress, but no self-respecting college student has proper coping mechanisms.

 

He decided to shut his eyes for a “quick” nap and the next thing Brian knew, he was jolting awake to the sound of someone calling his name.

 

“Brian?”

 

Brain raised his head slightly at the call, not looking up from his hunched position over a stack of papers, a post-it note stuck to his cheek that comprised of equations. Someone had entered his den of studying and that was punishable by death, or at least death glares. He had a schedule to be keeping to, and dumping bodies could not accounted for within his 30 minute ‘leisure’ time.

 

“What the fuck,” he responded articulately.  

 

Roger appeared in his line of sight, shaking his head.  

 

“It’s only me, you know, the only person who would know that you’re still awake at 2:00 in the morning.”

 

Running a hand through his hair (it probably looked like a mess, but he couldn’t bring himself to care), Brian brushed off the comment and waved to Roger absentmindedly.

 

Roger fell into the chair next to him, muttering in a way that would rival any crazy person.

 

“I’m doomed.  It’s more painful than expected to try to learn a semester worth of material in one night.”

 

“No shit, Rog.”

 

“Does math count as a language? Can you say I’m bilingual because I speak in code?” Roger continued, ignoring Brian’s insult.

 

“No, but it should.  I took Intro to Binary last semester and I was ridiculously close to putting it on my resume as a secondary language.”

 

Roger finally directed his attention to his friend.  

 

“So, how are you doing?”

 

“I’m never going to remember all of this by Wednesday,” Brian looked at his phone, before exclaiming, “Oh, shit, it’s already Wednesday.  Technically.”

 

Roger leaned over and delicately peeled the sticky note of the cheek of the despairing boy, looked at it and asked, “Would this help?”

 

Grabbing it, Brian, peered at it and said, “I’ve been looking for this formula for over an hour, I thought putting on myself would make me remember it more easily.  You know, like osmosis.”

 

“You mean diffusion, Bri.  Osmosis is the diffusion of water.”

 

“Shut up, Mr. Bio Major.”

 

“Anyway, Brian, I’m heading back to the dorm, and I’m here to make you come back because you are simply not allowed to stay here all night.”

 

Roger offered his hand and Brian took it.  

 

He tried to not think too much about the fact that Roger didn’t drop it once they were walking.

 

He failed.

* * *

_“Because you don't know what it means to me”_

It was the eighteenth week after the return of music to the bathroom and Brian could say with total confidence that this had been the best semester of his college career to date.  Finals had come and gone, and by some miracle he passed them all with flying colors. The music he was making with his friends was improving, they were playing little gigs now at local bars, and they were getting some attention from record labels.  No one had signed them yet, but Brian was just happy to be making music.

 

The band, which they had named Queen, a demand of Freddie, had been invited to play the end of year party at the same bar everyone went to at the conclusion of the semester.

 

The gig had gone surprisingly well for how drunk all four boys were before they even got on stage.  After they finished playing, they quickly packed up their gear, eager to join the actual party and reward all the hard work their brains had done by absolutely wrecking their livers.

 

Brian was anxious, seeing as how this was the very party, exactly one year ago, that he had royally fucked up his relationship with Roger.  Brian was very interested in _not_ doing that this time around.

 

Brian was also nervous because being at this bar brought up memories of Roger’s unfinished confession.  Brian liked closure and not knowing had been bothering him for a full year.

 

But Brian was not about to let any anxiety ruin this party.  He had finished his sophomore year and he was going to celebrate.

 

The band did a few rounds of shots before drifting their separate ways into the party.  Deaky liked to go dance. Freddie would find someone fun and disappear until tomorrow morning.  Roger would usually join either Freddie or John, depending on his mood. But tonight he stayed put next to Brian.  

 

Both boys were already very drunk, so Brian didn’t freak out as much as he usually would when Roger leaned his head on Brian’s shoulder.  

 

Roger’s hands came up to play with Brian’s hair, twirling each curl around his finger before letting it drop.

 

“Pretty.”

 

“Pardon?” Brian asked.

 

“Your hair.  It’s pretty.”

 

“Oh,” Brian wasn’t sure if he could blame the red color on his cheeks on alcohol, but he was going to anyway, “Thanks, Rog.”

 

“You’re pretty.”

 

Brian is fairly certain that his heart stopped beating for a full minute.

 

“Thanks, Rog.”

 

Brian was trying to play off how flustered he was.  It wasn’t working very well.

 

Roger suddenly jolted upright, as if shocked by lightning.

 

“I never told you what I wanted to tell you last year,” he turned to Brian, distressed, “I never told you and you probably forgot all about it.”

 

“It’s fine, Roger.  Really.”

 

The blond looked far more sober than he had a minute ago and his eyes were filled with determination.

 

“Well, I’m gonna tell you now.  And I don’t want you to panic and think that I’m only saying this because I’m drunk.  I know you, Brian May, and I know that’s exactly what you would do. I’m just going to come out and say it, ‘cause I’m terrified that if I don’t say it now, I never will.

 

“I like you.  I like you as more than a friend.  I think you’re fun to be around and I’m happier when I’m with you.  I understand if you hate me now and never want to talk to me again, but I couldn’t just never say it.”

 

Brian was stunned into silence, then, before his brain caught up to his body, he was kissing Roger.

 

It was messy and everything Brian had ever wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so as of right now, i have a lil epilogue planned, but i can totally understand if yall are sick of me and this story as a whole... so let me know if yall would be interested in one more chapter of my nonsense!


	5. Do You Think It'd Be Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIIIIIg time jump here yall :) i'm the #worst 
> 
> i vanished for a month and come back with...this mess
> 
> sorry yall, at least its here. its short but its here

_ “Love of my life” _

It was the last day before Brian was free from the special Hell that was college.  Technically speaking, he was already free. He had finished his exams a week ago, and passed them all, so all he was doing was waiting for graduation.  One small walk across a big stage and he was free. 

 

It felt...weird.  Brian had always thought he would end up as a career student.  The kind of person who would still be on his college campus twenty years from now, collecting degrees because he really had no other applicable real-world skills.  

 

Instead, he was graduating and immediately walking into the unknown.  He scraped his post-grad plans and he was going to be in a band for his job.  His parents had been weird about his, somewhat questionable, choices, but they supported him and that’s all that really mattered.

 

His band.  Brian loved all the boys in the band dearly, but he had no clue how they would survive the real world.  None of them thought they would get this far, and so the fact that they were going to be in a band as their legit jobs was crazy.

 

So, in a way, Brian was ready to graduate, but he wasn’t fully sure he and the three other boys he called his second family were ready to be fully functioning adults.

 

A scream from the room to his left made him finally open his eyes and sit up.  As if on cue, Freddie and Roger tumbled through his door, panicked.

 

“I set my graduation cap on fire.”

 

Brian blinked, slowly.  How the blond still managed to surprise him was beyond him.

 

“How the fuck?”

 

Roger pointed at Freddie.

 

“He told me it would look cool and now I’m gonna have to face the whole ass school with a burned cap.”

 

“Stop whining, Rog,” Freddie said, shoving Roger towards Brian, “It  _ did _ look cool until you got carried away.  It would’ve been so grunge and chic.”

 

“Well, it isn’t and now my cap is ruined.”

 

Roger turned to Brian with a look on his face that was all too familiar.  Roger jumped on Brian’s bed and batted his, unfairly long, eyelashes.

 

“Bri,” he said, drawing the i-sound out to sound even more petulant, “we could always share.  May is before Taylor and you can just throw it back to me.”

 

Brian rolled his eyes, “I hate you-”

 

Roger’s face fell and he prepared to begin begging, but Brian continued.

 

“But, yes, we can share.”

 

Roger leaped up, pumping his fist in the air. 

 

“Success!  And fuck you, Fred, you tried to sabotage me.”

 

And with the speed they entered, both boys vanished, replaced with a much quieter man.

 

Deaky peered around the doorframe with an apologetic smile on his face.  

 

“Roger burned our curtains as well, just thought you should know.”

 

Brian fell flat on his bed.  No, none of them were ready to be adults.

* * *

 

It was the first night of freedom and Brian could not have been more excited.  He had walked the walk, thrown his cap to Roger, who had walked his walk, and now they were free.

 

And to celebrate they were partying.  Not the wild end-of-the-year parties at the club on campus.  No, they were refined adults now, and as refined adults do, they were doing vodka shots on the floor of the living room wearing sweatpants and their graduation caps, one of which was slightly more singed than the others.

 

Somewhere around the tenth shot, when the world was fuzzy and much more exciting and fun, the phone rang.

 

John, who was somehow the soberest of all four boys, answered it.

 

When he came back, looking more shocked than ever and announced that he had something to say, the boys stopped their drinking and turned to look at him.

 

“Well,” John started, “that was EMI.  And, uh, they want to sign us.”

 

Dead silence.  Then.

 

“What the fuck!” from Roger.

 

“Holy shit.” from Freddie

 

“Oh my god,” Brian said, “oh my god, we’re really gonna make it.”

 

Roger threw himself into Brian’s arms.

 

“Bri, we really are gonna make it.”

 

In a moment of confidence, that Brian told himself was the result of alcohol and not his repressed feelings, Brian grabbed Roger and kissed him hard.

 

With smoke from their cigs and blunts swirling around them and the joyful screams of his bandmates, lit only by the starlight streaming through their open window, Brian and Roger finally, finally had their movie kiss.

 

And it was everything the two boys had been building for that last four years.  

 

And it was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well ladies, lasses, and those with beautiful asses, we have made it.
> 
> I just want to thank each and every single one of yall who took the time to read/comment/leave kudos. it truly means the world to me and I am so thankful for yall. 
> 
> so, thanks for letting me share a bit of myself with yall through my writing and thank yall for sharing back.
> 
> I love you all :)

**Author's Note:**

> there's still like 3 more verses to the song, so if y'all want me to do the rest, just let me know :)


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